Another Love
by BritishTraveller
Summary: Arthur's having a bit of trouble with Francis. He loves him, but he loves someone else, too... One shot, based on the song 'Another Love' by Tom Odell. FrUk/UsUk


Hey, again. Another one shot for you! I hope you like it (anyone who actually reads it) but yeah, I tried!

Based on my favourite song, 'Another Love' by Tom Odell.

* * *

_I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care  
__But it's so cold and I don't know where_

Arthur sat on the edge of the white windowsill, watching as little white specks came falling down, making the dozens of busy people passing their London home sigh. It was freezing; it _was_ the middle of December though, he reminded himself. The messy haired Brit frowned and hugged himself tightly, thinking of places to take his French boyfriend. He couldn't think of any. All he wanted to do was show Francis that he cared; because of course he did! He loved Francis. Well, to be frank, he wasn't sure any more. But he did know that he cared.

_I brought you daffodils in a pretty string_  
_But they won't flower like they did last spring_

Arthur smiled at Francis, handing him some daffodils. It was the best he could do in December, after all. He'd specially grown them (attempted to) in his greenhouse, but much to his dismay, they didn't flower as much as they had the last time he'd given Francis some. The Frenchman took them with a grateful smile, finally happy to receive something from his British counterpart. Kissing the shorter blonde in front of him, Francis strode off in search of a place for his new flowers.

_And I wanna kiss you, make you feel all right_  
_I'm just so tired to share my nights_

"Arthur, let's make love, s'il vous plaît?" Francis asked. They hadn't done anything in months, let alone touch each other. He was lucky to even get a peck on the lips off the Brit. When the Frenchman realised he wasn't going to be getting any action, he sighed and flopped down beside his boyfriend, if he could even call him that any more.

"I'm sorry, Francis. I am. I'm just so tired..." mumbled Arthur, who was half asleep anyway. It was true though. He _was_ tired; knackered, in fact. After a busy day of work, all he wanted to do was curl up in a big duvet and go to sleep. Even so, he did want to kiss Francis. He wanted to touch him, explore him again. Because, oh man, it'd been so long. Too long.

But right now, sex was the last thing on his mind.

_I wanna cry and I wanna love_  
_But all my tears have been used up_

"You don't even fucking love me, Arthur! What is the point of us being together? You don't care!" screamed Francis, tears streaming down his beautiful face. "You haven't kissed me in days, weeks! Let alone touch me!"

"Francis, please-"

"Non! I will not have it! Do you even love me?" questioned Francis. Tears still threatened to spill from his cerulean eyes, and he tried his hardest not to let them flow, but they did. He wanted to look strong in front of Arthur, but it'd turned into this. A fight. And maybe, just maybe, it was what they needed.

Arthur looked into Francis' eyes, the once beautiful, mystical and even magical eyes that were only for him. "I-"

_On another love, another love_  
_All my tears have been used up_

He wanted to say he loved Francis; he did. But after everything, he didn't love him any more. He just didn't. And it hurt. It hurt Arthur just as much as it hurt Francis. Arthur wanted to cry. He wanted to just cry, cry his little heart out and have someone hold him. Tell him it was all okay, to tell him that it'll all blow over and he can get back to his life with Francis.

_On another love, another love_  
_All my tears have been used up_

But it never works like that. Nothing's ever that simple. Oh, but how Arthur could dream. He wanted so desperately to be held and soothed, like a baby. He just didn't want to deal with the demons that taunted him, he didn't want to deal with Alfred.

_On another love, another love_  
_All my tears have been used up_

Alfred was Arthur's other love. The person that broke Francis and Arthur. He broke their happy home, crushed it, tore it apart. He took Arthur away.

_And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight_  
_But my hands been broken, one too many times_

Francis limped in. He had a black eye, a broken rib and a cut lip. Not much, but the sight still made Arthur's heart ache. Arthur wanted to know who the culprit was, he wanted to fight them. He wanted to protect the man he'd loved so much, so deeply, for so long. "Francis! Francis, come on, babe. Sit down, sit down." He lead the taller of the two over to the love seat and gently helped him sit, "I swear; I'll fight them. They fucking hurt you, Francis! Who did this to you? Who?"

The Frenchman looked blankly at his boyfriend, "Alfred."

_So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude_  
_Words they always win, but I know I'll lose_

"Alfred! You fucking Yank! What the hell have you done to Francis, you twat?" screamed Arthur, anger bubbling inside of him. What was there to do? He couldn't hurt either of them. Not physically, anyway. All he could do was shout, scream, use his powerful voice to insult.

_And I'd sing a song, that'd be just ours_  
_But I sang 'em all to another heart_

Arthur smiled softly at his French lover, who was lay on the love seat and being taken care of by the Brit. Francis always loved it when Arthur sang; it made up for his harsh eyebrows. _"And you can tell everybody this is your song, it may be quite simple but now that it's done, I hope you don't mind..."_ Arthur stroked the hair out of Francis' peaceful face as he slept, feeling ever so guilty that this wasn't the only person who he sang their song to...

_And I wanna cry I wanna learn to love_  
_But all my tears have been used up_

The Brit kissed his French lover on the top of his head before slinking over to his armchair. Once sat down, he sighed and put his face in his hands. He just wanted to cry. There were so many emotions he couldn't deal with, and the one thing he could think of that would let him relax was crying. But he'd cried too much;

_On another love, another love_  
_All my tears have been used up_

Francis awoke, his ribs aching and leg still slightly sore. He blinked a couple of times and rubbed his eyes, forgetting about his black eye.  
When he sat up he searched the room, looking for Arthur. Frowning to himself when he couldn't find him, he held his ribcage and sat up, groaning a little. He searched the whole house; the living room (which he woke up in), the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen... He had no idea where the Brit had gone off to. It was only when Francis found the note stuck to the refrigerator that he realised Arthur'd gone.

It read:

_**Dear Francis,**_

_**I am sorry. I am. I swear to you, I never meant for any of this to happen. I loved you so much, I truly did.  
I wanted to love you, to hold you. I tried learning to love you again, but it hurt so much. I wanted to kiss you and hold you, make you feel good, but there was something that stopped me and I couldn't help it. I hate myself for that.**_

_**I wish I could have spent more time with you and showed you how much you meant when I had the chance, but I didn't. I was a fool and I don't deserve you, I never did. You're too beautiful, Francis. You're too sweet and lovely. **_

_**So it breaks my heart to do this, dear. It really, truly, does. I love you with all of my heart and always will; but for now, I have to go. I have to do this. We may never see each other again, but if we do, I hope that both of us are happy. Mainly you, of course. **_

_**I'm sorry.**_

_**Arthur. **_


End file.
